


What You Wake Up To

by sugarandvoid



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F, Whatever enjoy this cute shit..nice, theres not enough hetalia yuri honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2570627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarandvoid/pseuds/sugarandvoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They always wake up the same way on Saturday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Wake Up To

Every morning Tania woke up to the same thing. Sun shone weakly through lace curtains and dawned on the white bedsheets, painfully illuminating- she had gracefully given up the shaded side to Camille, who had griped for quite a while about how awful it was to wake up in such a bright space. It was not much of a room but a room none the less- for while it was a little plain and held its only charm in sheer simplicity, it had felt like home for a long time. It would always feel like home.

She dipped her hand into the cast shade and brushed it gently through strawberry blonde locks. For Camille slept more peacefully and serenely than Tania to the point in which she would remain drowsy and lax until the afternoon (she had been teased about this by Francis, who she had sorely reprimanded). But today it was no problem- lazy Saturday mornings were something the two embraced after a backbreaking weak of having to support each other. Camille stirred slightly- expression twitching a little and eyelids fluttering in a way that Tania found ridiculously adorable and legs shuffling amongst the covers that had already been displaced by sleep. She was not awake yet. But if there was ever going to be the traditional breakfast in bed that was going to change very soon.

Being awake is only one part of a morning, even a particularly lazy one. There was always pulling the energy together to make breakfast to provide another challenge. Everything was harder in the mornings, and even using the toaster (cream and “antique”, which meant that it broke an awful lot and was much older than anything should be) was a mountain of a task. But it was always the same on Saturday mornings. Camille would spread several slices of warm bread with a thick layer of jam and cart the plates all the way up the stairs and into bed without fail. After a week of stress and bad eating it was unknowingly soothing and therapeutic to be able to eat together once again, no matter of the quietness that hung over them. It was about the togetherness- saying nothing, but communicating everything.

“I’m so glad I get to wake up with you.”


End file.
